


Sour and sweet

by willow_mannequin



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, M/M, changing relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 22:19:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14482407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willow_mannequin/pseuds/willow_mannequin
Summary: Something new and something old. Relationship can change so slowly the differences can only be seen in retrospection.





	Sour and sweet

Hinata threw his bag over his shoulder, hastily stuffing his workout shirt inside and blowing at the strands of hair falling into his eyes. He turned around to head for the door, walking through the deserted clubroom where he was left behind minutes earlier when Kageyama tossed him the keys and told him to lock up, and then just left, that bastard.

Pausing by the door to flick the lights off, Hinata swept the clubroom with a last glance to check if everything was in order: window closed, things put away on the shelves, floor relatively clean-

He stilled, concentrating on a small object in the corner, lying nearly hidden under the lowest shelf, something small and dark, and rather flat. He hesitated, rocking on the balls of his feet - there was a pit of loud, fiery hunger in his stomach after he burned every possible calorie away during the extended practice time, and then even if Kageyama always waited semi-patiently for Hinata to change, he might decide not to wait this time and Hinata would be left to walk alone and that would be just on a verge of miserable. 

He grumbled low in his throat and bent to snatch the object up, Kageyama be damned. It was a wallet, brown and well-worn, leather soft from extensive and maybe careless use. 

“Would better put it somewhere in view,” Hinata mumbled to himself. Somewhere where whoever left it would see it straight away when walking in in the morning. Without much thought, he flicked the wallet open.

Kageyama’s sour face stared at him with a deep scowl from a student ID slipped under a plastic wrap in one of wallet’s flaps. Hinata laughed out loud at the expression so comically familiar, one he was so used to seeing.

The photo must have been three years old by now, taken at the beginning of the first year of high school. Three years ago, back when Kageyama didn’t seem to have more than two emotions - utter disinterest and unbridled rage, and it was sometimes hard to tell which one was worse to be a target of. Kageyama got better though. Slowly. It just took time.

Grinning, Hinata put the wallet in the pocket of his jumper, checked the clubroom yet again, and finally closed up, leaving the room completely dark in the nearing night. As he run down the stairs, leaping from landings and omitting some steps as he pleased, he was distinctly aware of the small weight inside his pocket. He caught himself touching it briefly through the material as he dropped off the keys, a little bothered by it and a little intrigued by its unfamiliarity. 

Kageyama, predictably, was waiting by the gate, looking out somewhere over the drop of the cliff beyond the road, lost in thought. He shook aware when Hinata’s footsteps reached him.

Grumpily, he said, “Took you long enough,” before turning and starting down the road. 

Hinata had to run to catch up with him so of course he felt the need to jostle Kageyama’s arm in retaliation. Kageyama deserved it, dammit, for his seemingly perpetual grouchiness.

“Had to check everything.”

“Since when did you get responsible?”

“Since Yamaguchi started to threaten to kick my ass if I forget to switch the light off again.” Hinata shuddered. Yamaguchi usually didn’t look scary at all - kind of, you know, mild. Shy, even. But then he became a captain and found hidden reserves of terror that must have been accumulating for years and he started to use them. Before long they all had learned better than to cross him. Tsukishima was a little confused at first but gave up soon. Yamaguchi still was remarkably gentle with Yachi, out of habit mostly - Yachi has found a little more courage and confidence since she began rubbing shoulders with the volleyball team. It helped that the first- and the second-years looked up to her as much as they looked up to their older teammates. It still didn’t reach the levels of worship that Tanaka and Noya somehow managed to acquire but it was a near thing. 

Kageyama winced in sympathy. They both had been at the unlucky end of Yamaguchi’s not-entirely-unfounded irritation once. Or twice. Maybe a few times, even. “Right. Did you switch the light off this time?”

“Yeah. I’m sure. Pretty damn sure. But, you know, not everyone seems to have my excellent memory.”

“‘Excellent memory’, he says.” Kageyama snorted audibly. “Who was not allowed any club activity for a week because he forgot to turn in that chem project last year?”

Hinata’s shoulders slumped. “Will you ever live that down?”

“Not until you start paying damn attention. You’re a fucking pain in the ass to deal with, you know?” Kageyama lifted his chin up. For a second he just walked in silence but then something in him snapped and he spat out one more sentence. “Everyone was pissed off, the team was incomplete for a whole week, and we had to skulk around to practice because your mindless ass had to forget a dumb project.” 

Kageyama’s words and pace of steps were even, face impassive. Yet, under all that indifference Hinata could see a glimmer of frustration, like tips of cat’s claws showing right before someone gets scratched.

That was not a good week. That was, in fact, the worst week in Hinata’s sentient memory, a muddled streak of shame and anger and gratefulness. Because even as Kageyama raged, he still didn’t shove Hinata off when Hinata begged him to find a little time to practice together. Because Kageyama cared enough to get angry and tell Hinata off for his mistakes, instead of ignoring him like he ignored everything he deemed non-essential. Because Hinata, after all, made himself at least a little important and needed.

Hinata still felt random pangs of guilt and fear because of that week. Like it was a trial and they barely made in through. And it was all Hinata’s fault.

“I’m sorry,” he said. His voice sounded gravely and he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“It better fucking not.”

Hinata had to leap over a particularly large puddle left by yesterday’s rain, and felt again the weight of the wallet in his pocket, having minutely forgotten about it in the deadend of shame he run himsef into. He extracted it out of the folds of cloth and tapped Kageyama’s arm.

“You forgot your wallet in the clubroom,” he said quietly. He might be fierce but he lacked the courage to look up into Kageyama’s face, instead dropping the wallet into Kageyama’s hand and skipping forward, towards the fork in the road where they always parted ways.

Kageyama caught up mere seconds later, walking wordlessly to match Hinata’s pace. In the tense silence, he gently bumped Hinata’s shoulder.

“Thanks,” Kageyama said. Hinata nodded, eyes still glued to the asphalt.

They paused at the fork, Kageyama going right, Hinata going left. 

“See ya tomorrow,” Hinata said and started down the street. He heard Kageyama mumble a reply and then the soft pad of his footsteps as he, too, started walking away.

Hinata lifted his head to gaze into the quickly darkening sky; as he stared, searching for stray stars, the streetlamps flicked to life. Faraway scents of warm soil and foliage wafted through the nearby fields and Hinata’s mind quieted enough to make a decision; he turned to look over his shoulder.

Kageyama was staring at him. Paces away he, too, had paused on the sidewalk. As their eyes met, the corner of Kageyama’s mouth lifted. A smile, barely there, quiet and so Kageyama-like, seeming to be a parting gift of good will. Kageyama waved his hand in a goodbye and turned away.

Hinata stood frozen for a few seconds longer before the pent up energy overflowed and spilled into every tired muscle of his body. He was grinning to himself as he skipped into a run.

Hinata was important. He could, after all, elicit a smile from one Kageyama, the King of Grumpiness.


End file.
